I saw the little green car yesterday; I went down to Vorderman’s to pay them for the last bit of work they did on it before we discovered the brakes were just not worth the money to repair, given the rust on the body . . . not to mention the duct tape on the driver’s side headlight bezel.

You know what, though, its little heart, its powerful heart – its engine – sounds so great – purring and and giving me that wonderful wake-up scent of diesel in the morning. It always wanted to run fast and smooth.

“You and me, AmeliaJake . . . You and me,” it seemed to say. I could hear it in the rhythm – in the controlled thunder of its chug.

A lot of people wouldn’t have had it – too old, dents, some rust; but I knew it was solid and upright and of good character.

But it is time to let it go and I wish I knew someone who could use the engine with its new fast start glow plugs. Somebody who has an old 1976 pristine 300D body that has been tucked away in someone’s garage. A car that looks so perfect, but harbors an engine that has also been let to sit. I’d say, “Here, take little greenie’s engine.”

Wait a minute! Maybe I’d say, “Sell me your chassis and little greenie and I will chug again, free as the wind . . . well, with maybe a little scent of diesel in the air.